Blown Away (Next Generation 8) Page 6
Brent felt sick when he thought about sleepless nights wondering where she was, who she was with, and why she’d declined when he asked her to spend the evening with him. Calling her only to have another man answer. Seeing flowers from someone else on her bedside table or a picture of her on another man’s arm in the newspaper or on the Internet. He’d never fallen in love because he’d been desperately afraid he would end up like his father: alone while another man walked away with his wife.
“Are you okay?” she asked, brushing back his hair. “You’re sweating. Brent, what is it? Aren’t you feeling well?”
He looked into her eyes, forcing himself to swallow the fear. “Can I touch you now?”
She looked confused. “Yes.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight as he cushioned his head on her breasts. “I want to be with you.” Her conditions still terrified him. If she wouldn’t follow his rules, how could he be sure she wouldn’t leave him?
***
Ava didn’t know what had happened to the ruthless businessman who ruled his empire with an iron fist, but he wasn’t in her bed right now. In his place was a man laced with panic. He was scared, but she couldn’t figure out what provoked his anxiety. He couldn’t be so invested in her…
She reached into her nightstand for protection and she saw his eyes darken when he spotted the half-empty box of condoms. “Is there a problem?”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and he closed his eyes. “No problem.”
She rolled the latex over his hard shaft, her lips tipping up when he drew a deep breath. He was under her control, and it must be killing him. “Kiss me.”
Brent seized the back of the head, pulling her face toward his. “Let’s do this my way. Please.”
His quiet plea almost broke her, but she knew if she gave in, he would bulldoze her orderly life and everyone in it. “No.” Instead of trying to coerce her with words, he used his mouth to stoke the sparks of her desire until it was a full blown firestorm. “You don’t play fair, Armstrong,” she panted, guiding his shaft inside her.
“Neither do you.”
Ava eased him in slowly, enjoying his reaction while trying to regulate her own. If he knew she was as affected as he was, he would use it as leverage to gain the upper hand. “Open your eyes.”
He did as she instructed, but his eyes were cold and dark, as though he was trying to prevent himself from succumbing to the pleasure. “I hate this.”
“Then I’m not doing it right,” she said, rolling her hips.
His hands fisted in the sheets. He was honoring her rule about not touching her until she gave him permission. “Sweet Jesus.”
“How does that feel?” she asked, losing herself. The rules of the game shifted as soon as she’d surrounded him. Having his hands on her was the only thing that mattered anymore.
“Incredible.” He bared his teeth. “You’re enjoying this power trip, aren’t you?”
“Touch me.”
“No.”
Her breath tripped when she spotted the smug satisfaction in his eyes as he laced his hands behind his head. “Excuse me?”
“Not until you promise you won’t play these games again.”
He had gall, not that she was surprised. He was used to getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. She had to teach him a lesson about turnabout and fair play. “Like hell.” She braced her hands on his chest and eased off of him.
“Don’t even think about it.” He grabbed her waist and flipped her on her back as he mounted her. “Neither of us are leaving this room until we’re both satisfied. It may take days.”
Ava couldn’t ignore the sensation prompted by his deep penetration. A decade was a long time. She’d had other lovers since she gave Brent her innocence, but none had given her the same indescribable sense of fulfillment, of completion.
“I’ve seen you like this a hundred times, when I wake up or I’m on the verge of falling asleep.” He framed her face with his hands as his body worked its magic to bring her back to the time and place it all began. She closed her eyes and let his words seep into her soul.
His body moved so slowly, so gently, as though he wanted to prolong the experience as long as he could. “Sometimes when I’m in the middle of a crazy day and everything’s going wrong, I close my eyes to see your smile and hear your laughter, and it eases my stress.”
His quiet admission twisted around her heart. He’d thought of her over the years, perhaps as often as she’d thought of him. Maybe she’d given herself to the right man the very first time. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies coming together, passionate kisses, whispered moans and pleas, and finally Ava’s release followed by his.
The last words she heard before she drifted off were, “I’m still crazy about you, Ava.”
Chapter Four
When Brent woke up with Ava’s warm body curled around his, he realized he could get used to that.
She moaned before pressing a kiss to his chest. “I should make us some breakfast and hit the shower. I have a busy day and I’m sure you do too.”
Suddenly mergers, takeovers, and acquisitions didn’t sound as appealing as lying there and wasting the day away with her. “I can spare another hour.” He grinned when she lifted her head. “Or two.”
“You may be able to,” she said, slapping his chest, “but I can’t. I don’t have hundreds of people to pick up the slack when I’m not there.”
He twisted a strand of long blond hair around his finger and asked, “How many employees do you have?”
“Four.” She traced the dusting of hair on his chest. “Vivian is my receptionist, Tara’s my marketing and P.R. person, Harold’s my I.T. guy, and Heather handles accounting and bookkeeping. I deal with all of the clients personally.”
“Harold, huh? What’s his deal?” Brent knew he was doing a terrible job concealing his jealous streak, but he hadn’t come so far to risk losing her.
Ava giggled. “He’s fifty four and just became a grandfather for the first time.”
“Perfect.”
“You’re too much.” She trailed her fingernails over his ribcage.
“So, how about dinner tonight? I’ve got a meeting at six, but I could pick you up by eight.”
“I can’t. I have plans.”
His whole body tensed and his hand stilled on her back. “What do you mean, you have plans? With who?”
“I’m having dinner with a client.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He lowered his voice when he realized he was on the verge of shouting. “You date your clients?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”
“Then why are you going out with--”
She cut him off as she sat up and reached for the robe at the foot of her bed. “My clients are busy people. They often have to combine business and pleasure. Sometimes I meet them outside of my office for a status report.”
“What do you mean ‘a status report’?” He was getting a headache and it wasn’t even seven a.m. That woman would be the death of him.
“I like getting a first-hand account of whether their dates were successful or not. I need to know what they liked or didn’t like about the dates I selected for them so I can find a better match next time.”
“Let me get this straight,” he said, watching her slip into her soft, pink, silk robe and tighten the sash. “You’re going out with a good looking, single, rich guy who’s looking for a life partner?”
She padded barefoot into the walk-in closet. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“No way.”
She glared at him as she folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t recall asking for your permission. You asked if I could go out with you tonight. I said no. End of discussion.”
He watched her walk down the hall and cursed as he jumped up to pull on his pants. “We’re not finished. I said you’re not--” He stopped himself just before the words slipped out. If he st
arted issuing orders, she would tell him to get the hell out and not come back.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glanced at the rumpled sheets. They’d made love several times during the night, and every time, he lost a little more of his heart. He couldn’t lose her, but if he didn’t get a handle on his possessiveness, he would. How could he feel secure in a relationship that made him more susceptible to heartbreak than he’d ever been?
He took a few deep breaths before heading down the hall. “Do you mind telling me who your client is?” he asked when he found her in the kitchen.
“I can’t, sorry. Confidentiality.” She pointed to a carafe of fresh coffee. “Help yourself.”
He didn’t want coffee. He wanted answers, but he couldn’t push too hard, so he decided to change the subject. “You like coffee now?”
Ava wrinkled her nose. “You corrupted me.” Shooting him a side-long glance, she said, “I can’t drink a good cup of coffee without having flashbacks of that night.”
Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck as he watched her slide the spatula under a ham and cheese omelet. “Tell me more.”
“Your ego’s big enough already.”
He smirked. She wasn’t the first person to tell him that, but normally only his brother got away with it. “I don’t want you to go out with some other guy tonight.”
She sighed as she reached overhead to grab two plates. “It’s just business.”
“Does he know that?”
“He already asked me out and I said no. I don’t date my clients.”
“Goddammit, Ava!” He stepped back, thrusting his hand through his hair. “So he does have a thing for you! Who the hell are we talking about? At least tell me his name.” So I can warn him to stay the hell away from you.
“Not gonna happen. Sorry.” She plated the omelets and took them to a small table tucked into a corner of the kitchen. “Do you want bacon too?”
“No, I don’t want bacon. I want to know who the hell you’re going out with tonight.”
“This won’t work.” She braced her hand on the back of a wrought-iron chair. “I like you. I’m attracted to you, but I can’t have the kind of relationship you want. I can’t be accountable to you for every move I make.”
Brent panicked. He was screwing everything up. “Fine, forget it.” He couldn’t believe he was conceding. He never conceded. “Let’s just have breakfast. I won’t mention it again.”
“Promise?” she asked, looking skeptical.
“You have my word.” Even if remaining silent would be torture, he intended to keep his word. For now.
***
Brent sat in the driveway of his father’s tiny bungalow trying to understand why he felt the need to visit the old man. He should be at work finalizing details of the hostile takeover that had been his lifework for almost a decade.
Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, his mind drifted to Ava. She was the reason he was there. He needed his father’s take on the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand. He’d never given anyone the power to hurt him… until her.
Brent ran up the walkway and opened the front door. “Hey, Dad, where are you?” He heard the TV blaring in the living room. At seventy, his father was losing his hearing, but he was too stubborn to admit it.
“In here!”
Brent lounged in the living room doorway and glanced at the game show his father was watching. Brent hated that house. It harbored too many memories of his unhappy childhood and that woman, but his father refused to let Brent buy him a luxury condominium or a new house in the downtown core so he would be closer to the amenities. His father had bought his house when they were finally able to move out of the rat-infested apartments they’d called home, and Brent knew, modest as it was, it was a source of pride, so he didn’t force the issue.
Instead, Brent hired a private nurse to make sure his father took his prescriptions for his chronic lung condition and a caregiver to drive him to appointments, the grocery store, and the seniors’ center for his daily card game. The doctor took his license away after his last surgery, and the loss of independence nearly killed the old man. His sons finally convinced him to restructure his life and make new friends.
“What are you doin’ here in the middle of a workday?” his dad asked.
Brent held up his diamond Rolex. “It’s not the middle of the day. It’s only ten.” He’d gone for a drive after changing for work, but he still didn’t feel like facing the day. He hoped his father could help him gain some perspective.
“Fine,” Jerry Armstrong said, sighing. “What’re you doin’ here at ten in the morning?”
“I didn’t feel like going in to work today.”
Jerry snorted. “That’s a switch.” He turned off the TV and laced his hands over his paunch. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya, boy?”
“We’re finalizing the details of the takeover. He’s got nowhere to hide. There’s not a bank in the world who’ll bail him out of this mess.”
Jerry sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you the only person you’re hurtin’ with this revenge plot is yourself? You’ve got to let go of your hatred toward the man, Brent. Your mama left us. He didn’t hold a gun to her head and force her to go.”
Brent didn’t know if he could ever let go of his animosity for the man who’d lured Brent’s mother away. He was rich, so Brent had to be richer. He was smart, so Brent had to prove he was better and smarter and more powerful. That man was the fuel motivating him to succeed, and Brent didn’t think he wanted to let the hatred die.
“I didn’t come here to talk about him.”
Jerry pointed to a worn chair next to his recliner. “Take a load off. Tell me what’s botherin’ you.”
Brent didn’t even know where to start. Sitting down, he laced his hands between his bent knees and leaned forward. “There’s this girl. We met in college. She moved to Europe. We didn’t see each other for a long time.”
“Go on. I’m listenin’.”
“We hooked up last night.”
Jerry rolled his eyes. “Is that your way of tellin’ me you took her home? That’s what you young people call it, isn’t it? Hookin’ up?”
Brent couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to talk to his father about this. But Jerry had done something that had alluded Brent his whole life: he’d learned to trust another woman after his wife left. He’d fallen in love with Bernice ten years ago and lost her to breast cancer three years ago. She had been his neighbor, and the two always maintained their separate residences, but their genuine affection was obvious.
“We were… uh… kind of together back in college.”
“Does that mean y’all slept together?”
“Jesus, Dad, I’m forty years old. I’m not talking to you about my sex life.”
“Fine.” He chuckled. “What about this woman has got you cuttin’ out on work and interruptin’ my TV time?”
“I have feelings for her.” He was afraid to define what they were, but he knew they’d started back in college and time had only intensified them.
“Does she feel the same way?”
He assumed Ava felt something for him. She wouldn’t have made love to him otherwise. “I think so.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She’s too damn independent, too stubborn…” Brent drew a shaky breath. “She’s making me crazy.”
“Because you can’t control her.”
That was the crux of his problem, but he wouldn’t admit it aloud. “I want to protect her.”
“You want to own her.”
His father was starting to sound like Ava. He was supposed to be on his side. “No, I don’t. I want to have a relationship with her.”
“On your terms.”
Brent sighed. Didn’t anyone want a mutually exclusive relationship anymore? “I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. I just don’t want her to see anyone else.”
“How long have y�
��all been seein’ each other?” When Brent didn’t respond, his father asked, “Weeks? Months?” He snickered. “That’s what I thought. You’ve got to give it time, boy. You can’t rush these things.”
“Rush it? I wanted to be with her ten years ago!”
“Obviously she didn’t feel the same way. If she did, y’all would be married with a couple of kids by now.” Maybe the knowledge that Ava had cheated him out of the life he believed they could have had together was what hurt Brent the most. His father leaned forward and gripped Brent’s forearm with his arthritic hand. “Ya can’t force a woman to love you, son, any more than you can try to hold on to a woman who doesn’t love you anymore.”
Brent looked into his father’s pale blue eyes, trying to understand how he could have let the love of his life fall for another man. Why hadn’t he tried harder to keep her where she’d belonged, with her family? “I’m never going to let that happen to me.”
“It already happened with Jamie.”
“That was different.”
“Why? Because you didn’t really love her?”
“Dad, that’s not fair.” It was accurate, but it wasn’t fair of his father to call him out on it. His ex-fiancée had cheated on him, not the other way around.
“Is that why you’ve never let yourself fall in love? You’re afraid she’ll leave you, just like your mama left us?” He and his father had never discussed his mother’s betrayal. They just accepted it because they knew they didn’t have a choice. The moment she left, Brent decided he would be the one calling the shots, dictating what happened in his life. “Are you afraid this woman will leave you if you let her in?” his father asked.
Brent remembered the cold fear gripping him when Ava had told him it would never work between them. He could only imagine how much it would hurt in several years when they shared kids and memories. What if he gave her his heart and she left him? How would he survive?